


All Fun and Games (until Loki kicks your ass)

by Chunky_Squirrel



Category: Avengers, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Except for Coulson, Gen, Loki kicks ass, Loki trolls the Avengers, norsekink, wtf is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2012-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:58:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chunky_Squirrel/pseuds/Chunky_Squirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki trolls the Avengers. They're okay with this because it means Loki isn't off being an unhinged, world dominating autocrat. Then, somebody has the brilliant idea they need to take care of Loki since the Avengers aren't obviously up to the task. They quickly learn Loki has never really tried to destroy people. Loki is very good at it. The Avengers are okay with this too because nobody is fully dead, and more importantly, nobody messes with their supervillain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Captain America

**Author's Note:**

> From the norsekink prompt summarized as thus: Loki and the avengers eventually some how becomes friends but Loki is still a bad guy. A new super hero comes into town and tries to take him down. The avengers do not take kindly to this.
> 
> As a warning, all mistakes are mine, and I'm sure there's a treasure trove of them throughout the work. I have no idea what I'm writing half of the time, so let me know if something doesn't make sense.
> 
> Thor or the Avengers aren't mine, however.

The world was a cruel place filled with evil and suffering at the then hands of madmen. It took an extraordinary few to make a stand against the most hopeless situations, and keep on fighting to the bitter end. Today, however, was not one of those days. Today, the most hopeless situation was the inevitable stomach ache that results from eating too much ice cream, because it was really good ice cream.

“You know,” Tony Stark, Iron Man himself, said. “I should be so much more upset my car is ruined…but this triple fudge chocolate chip is divine.”

Somehow, against the laws of physics, every car in upper Manhattan was now constructed with ice cream. Mint chip Chevy’s, strawberry Volkswagons, and an occasion vanilla Prius made for a messy street, but a delicious midday snack. Tony looked over his shoulder at Captain America, waving a slop of ice cream in his armored hand. Jarvis was going to be so pissed at how much cleaning his suit will need.

“Come on, Steve!” he shouted cheerfully. “Relax a bit. You’re the lucky one. Your shield is like a giant ice cream scoop!”

Despite Captain America’s valiant effort to object to the flagrant vandalism and destruction of personal property, there was a hint of an embarrassed flush as he uncharacteristically fiddled with his shield.

“This is still wrong,” Steve feebly objected. “This is a violation of personal property.”

“Please, most of these cars belong to fat cats who can afford to buy a new car,” Tony argued, licking his lips as he set his sight on a lonely, butter pecan Jaguar up ahead. “I just ate my fifty thousand dollar car. I have no regrets.

Shifting his weight, Captain America finally gave into peer pressure. He reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a handy Swiss Army Knife, because he was always prepared like that. He hesitated a second before dipping his portable spoon in a plain chocolate Mercedes, and taking a bite.

“Ha! Even the great American hero falls for my dastardly plans!”

Steve choked on his mouthful of ice cream from surprise. The supposedly evil mastermind behind the deliciously sweet destruction stood right behind him. Still coughing from the ice cream, Steve felt the villain helpfully pound him on the back.

“Geez, startle a guy why don’t you,” Steve grumbled.

“I happen to be evil like that,” the villain replied carelessly. “Enjoying yourselves?”

Tony waved with a grin.

“This is great, Loki,” he said around a mouthful of ice cream. “How did you get this stuff to taste so good?”

Loki shrugged a shoulder then licked a dollop of ice cream from a waffle cone.

“Mere mortals need not know what does not concern them,” Loki sniffed. “Besides, your minds are not physically capable of comprehending such methods.”

“So you’re telling me the flavors are magic?” Tony snorted. “How can flavors be magical? You know what though, forget it. I’m not going to ruin this perfectly good crisis arguing about taste buds, chemical reactions, and magic.”

Loki arched an eyebrow, unimpressed.

“As I said, your mind could not possibly grasp the concept.”

Scooping another spoonful of ice cream, Steve watched, and barely listened, to Tony and Loki argue. It was a common occurrence. He guessed their intellect and egos clashed and repelled each other, like the same charges on a pair of magnets.

Steve mentally patted himself on the back for contributing to the science. At least, Steve assumed it was science since it was Tony, but it could just as easily be about magic, or even both. Science and magic sounded about the same to him anyways. Besides, there were more pressing issues at hand.

“Hey, Loki, where’d you get the cone?” Steve asked, eyeballing said treat in Loki’s hand.

“Magic,” he immediately answered, making a show of biting into the crispy cone.

“Son of a-“ Tony rolled his eyes. “Waffle cones can’t possibly be magic. You had to get it from somewhere.”

“Magic?” Steve supplied helpfully.

He suddenly felt the Swiss Army knife grow lighter and crispier. Looking down at his hand, Steve was pleasantly surprised to find a large, warm waffle cone in his hand. It smelled just like he remembered from his childhood. Thanking Loki with a salute, Steve scooped a glob of ice cream into the cone.

“Hey, where’s my cone?” Tony demanded.

“Surely your science can make you one,” Loki sniped.

With a puff of green smoke, Loki disappeared from the scene, leaving a bemused Tony with ice cream melting in his hand. Steve shrugged when Tony turned his begging eyes on him. It wasn’t his fault Tony couldn’t keep his mouth shut.


	2. The Incredible Hulk

Fluffy baby animals were cute. It was a universally accepted fact. Anybody who said otherwise was either a heartless robot or an entity of absolute evil. Bruce Banner, sometimes the Incredibly Angry Hulk, didn’t think himself evil. As such, the clumsy little puppy tripping on its own ears at his feet was adorable. His temper at being interrupted in the middle of meditations was rapidly fading as he continued to watch the puppy yip happily around the floor.

“So how is this part of your ‘evil scheme’ again?” he asked, distracted by the way the puppy snuggled against his leg.

“You are an intelligent being, Bruce Banner,” Loki drawled as he stroked a fluff of fur in his arms. “Do not give me reason to reconsider you as such by asking stupid questions. Now, Fury is due for a kitten, and my brother a bunny. I have no more time to waste with you.”

In a sweeping flourish of emerald tinted smoke, Loki disappeared, leaving Banner alone in his kitchen with only a hyper puppy for company. He didn’t move for several minutes since he wasn’t sure what he should even begin to do. His home, and lifestyle, wasn’t prepared to handle something as high maintenance as a puppy. The responsible thing to do would be to find a shelter for the puppy, and then continue with his meditations. But dammit all, the puppy was really, really cute.

Against his better judgment, Banner leaned over and patted it on the head. The fur was soft, and its ears were like floppy pieces of velvet. It was very soothing. He hesitantly picked it up, holding it at eye level. It licked him on the nose. Before he knew it, Banner was cooing and making smooching faces at the puppy. It let out a few more excited yips and he immediately felt something warm and wet hit his shirt.

Breathing heavily in through his nose and out of his mouth, Banner slowly set the puppy on the floor and took a step back. The temper he worked so hard to keep at bay slowly crept to the forefront of his mind as the smell and feel of pee on his shirt reminded him why a puppy was a bad idea. The Hulk was uncontrollable, capable of untold amounts of damage. The Hulk was also not evil and didn’t kick puppies. The Hulk was in a conundrum. Banner dropped his head onto the counter instead.

His phone suddenly went off. The ring tone told him it was Stark. He really didn’t need to be goaded on today, but he also couldn’t, in good conscience, ignore the call. There could be untold evil rampaging through the city even as he slowly answered the phone.

“Fury has a kitten,” Stark said in greeting.

“Yeah, Loki said he was going to do that,” Banner replied, his anger sapped by his emotional frustration with a puppy. “Does he like the kitten, or did he throw it out the window?”

“He named it Rage,” he answered with a snort. “Seriously, you should see this. It’s the cutest little tabby. No, wait. I’ll send you a picture.”

Banner didn’t want to have a picture of Fury with a kitten on his phone, but before he could tell Stark as much, his phone beeped and said he had a new picture message. Frowning to himself and telling himself to ignore it, Banner opened the picture. He had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. It would do nobody any good if Stark heard him laughing. It was unanimously agreed to encourage Stark as little as possible.

“Isn’t that priceless?” Stark asked.

“He’s not very…menacing,” Banner observed. “He knows that, right?”

“Yeah, which is the best part. He can’t do anything about it,” Stark snickered.

Staring at the picture again, Banner idly rubbed the puppy’s stomach with his foot. Fury was sitting at his desk, giving Stark his usual disapproving glare, the only difference being the orange kitten perched on his shoulder. It appeared to have been nuzzling the side of his face.

“Loki is trying to annoy us,” Banner mused softly.

“No, really?” Stark said. “Though I guess it’s true. I mean, I didn’t get a cute baby animal. Did you get a cute baby animal?”

Banner paused his tummy rubbing, but quickly resumed when the puppy looked up at him with sad, soulful brown eyes.

“A puppy,” he grudgingly admitted. “And how come Fury got to name his kitten? Loki already named mine.”

It was truly horrifying and irritating to hear the whining in his voice.

“Dare I ask the name?” Stark asked excitedly.

“…Waffles,” Banner mumbled.

“…HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Stark hung up, his laughter echoing loudly through the speaker. Banner growled and chucked the phone against the wall. It startled Waffles who whined pathetically before getting up and walking towards the broken phone. Banner watched with mild curiosity and much embarrassment as Waffles scooped the phone in her mouth and dropped it dutifully at his feet, eyes staring expectantly at him.

Grumbling, Banner grabbed the phone and ruffled Waffle’s neck fur as a reward. He felt marginally bad about the broken phone, but he comforted himself knowing Stark would have to get him a new one, and really, after being zapped by a cattle prod, Banner thought he deserved a new phone anyways.

Setting the pieces on the counter, Banner began the arduous task of figuring out what he would need in order to care for a puppy. It took far too much time changing clothes, then trolling the internet and message boards about pet care, only to receive contradictory information. Fed up with getting nowhere, Banner angrily shut off his computer and stomped around, collecting his shoes and keys, carefully minding the nosy puppy circling his feet.

“We’re going for a ride, Waffles,” he said.

Waffles yipped in approval, and practically jumped into Banner’s arms. Of course, he had to bend over if he didn’t want her to hit his knees and fall to the floor.

When he arrived at the nearest pet store, Banner had to prowl through the parking lot, everybody suddenly visiting the pet store. A little old lady cut him off from a parking space he had been patiently waiting for. Banner really wanted to give her a piece of his mind; old age wasn’t an excuse for rudeness after all, but Waffles whined, derailing his thoughts from ‘accidental’ homicide. Reciting his breathing exercises, he finally found a parking space that wasn’t clear on the other side. He grabbed Waffles, fairly confident she wouldn’t pee on him again, and braced himself for the chaos waiting for him on the other side of the doors.

Sounds of barks, meows, chirps, and who knew what else greeted Banner’s ears, causing his blood pressure to rise. Everywhere he looked there was somebody with a baby animal and an impressive scowl on their face. There wasn’t a single person who didn’t look vaguely angry, but also protective of the pet in their arms. The store shelves were also beginning to look a bit bare. Pet store owners across the city must be extremely happy today.

“Can you believe it? Baby animals are showing up all around the world!’

Banner couldn’t help but overhear the chatter. Apparently pet supply stores were rejoicing around the world.

“Excuse me, Mister Banner and Waffles?” a female voice asked.

A young store clerk tapped him on the shoulder unobtrusively, drawing his attention away from a pair of kitten owners arguing over the last pink diamond collar.

“I was informed you might need some help,” she offered.

While he didn’t want to be suspicious of a young girl most likely working part time through college, but Banner couldn’t help it. Loki had been involved, and why was he being singled out when there were crowds of people. However, he had no idea where to start, so he might as well accept the help.

“Thanks…I think,” he said.

The clerk smiled sweetly and motioned for Banner to follow. She led him to the store’s back corner, which was packed with various pet items. Banner arched an eyebrow at the pile. The clerk continued to smile as she picked up a leash.

“You’ll want to use this kind of leash until she’s trained,” she explained. “If you want to later, you can switch to an adjustable leash.”

Banner felt his shoulders sag. She continued to explain the merits of different leashes. If there was that much information on a single leash, he was in for a long day. Waffles licked his hand, wiggling in his arms until the clerk held her arms out. With a clumsy leap, Waffles landed in her arms with a happy yip. Banner should have been happy, and offered the clerk to keep Waffles, but as he tucked his hands into his pockets, he felt oddly bereft without Waffles’ warmth against his body. It was why he didn’t offer anything except his ear.

As the clerk methodically explained her way through the pet items, Waffles began to droop, ultimately flopping into the clerk’s arms. She never stopped speaking, even when she dropped the puppy back in Banner’s outstretched arms.

“Excuse me, where do you keep the rabbit food?”

The booming voice interrupted Banner’s totally-not-cuddling cuddling, jerking both him and the clerk in surprise.

“Thor?” Banner said, his eyes drawn to the light brown ball of fur tucked safely in the crook of Thor’s arm.

“Ah, Bruce banner! I see my brother has gifted you with a companion as well,” Thor laughed.

The noise piqued Waffles’ interest, who lifted her head, then barked excitedly when she noticed Thor.

“Wow, she really seems to like you,” Banner observed.

But Thor wasn’t listening. Instead, he was staring intently at Waffles, sparing quick sideway glances at the clerk. Suddenly, Thor smiled a brilliant flash of pearly whites that made women swoon and Loki gag. Speaking of gagging, the clerk was making a face as if something distasteful was in her mouth.

“Say nothing, Thor,” she warned, crossing her arms defensively. “And the rabbit food is in aisle seven. Now leave…and be sure to not over feed him.”

In true Thor fashion, Thor completely ignored the clerk, slapping her on the back in what was sure a painfully friendly way. He scratched Waffles behind the ears, eliciting a happy whine from her.

“Tell me Bruce Banner, how fares Waffles?”

Banner stared dumbfounded between the clerk and Thor, his mind quickly putting the pieces together.

“She’s good,’ he answered distractedly. “How’s your, uh, bunny?

With more care than he had the tendency to use, Thor gently held the fur ball in his hands.

“This is Kanin,” he said proudly. “His floppy ears are an aesthetically pleasing trait, is it not?”

Kanin’s little pink noise twitched, whiskers swaying back and forth. He licked his paws and ran them over his face. Banner manfully bit back his instinct to coo.

“Kanin. Really, Thor?” the clerk said, voice dripping with resigned disbelief. “You named your rabbit, ‘Rabbit’?”

Thor drew Kanin to his chest, something akin to offense on his face.

“Kanin is a fine name. Besides, there are few in this city who would know such a thing,” he defended. “Do not listen to his lies, Kanin. Your name has no match. It is well suited to one of your station.”

“Loki?” Banner asked hesitantly.

“What? I’ll get back to you after my brother leaves,” he said, flipping his brown ponytail off his shoulder. “And fine, Thor, Kanin is a great name. Now leave me to my sinister workings.”

It really was worrying how easily Thor was appeased when it came to his brother. Banner shook his head, and simply waited. Loki would get back to business soon enough, though why he didn’t just tell Banner these things as himself, he didn’t know, but he had his suspicions after watching how Thor was able to identify Loki and Waffles.

“As you wish, Brother,” Thor acquiesced with a tilt of his head. He glanced at Banner. “Take care of Waffles. She matters greatly to Loki.”

With his stupid, happy grin, Thor strolled away to aisle seven, leaving Store Clerk Loki casting various death glares at Thor’s back.

“My apologies,” Loki said distractedly. “I will leave you with the written instructions. Others are in need of my attention.”

He still retained the appearance of the young store clerk, but now he moved with a superior grace unique to Loki. Before he left, however, he reached out, hesitating a fraction of a moment, then finally settling on stroking the soft bur between Waffles eyes. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she snuggled contentedly in Banner’s arms.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her,” Banner assured him, even though he didn’t know why he was in the first place. “Though I still don’t’ know how this is all evil.”

Loki nodded his head once as eh plastered an infectiously happy smile one would expect from an outgoing young woman.

“Silly, you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Store Clerk Loki flounced off to help another customer, or pester Thor. Banner thought both were highly probably. He glanced down at Waffles and felt himself smile, despite the work it was going to take to set everything up. There was no possible way a cute puppy could be a part of an evil plan.

Of course, Banner was eating his words when a month later, Doom began attacking another city. The size of the machine required the Hulk’s considerable girth and power. Unfortunately, he was finding it increasingly difficult to find the anger necessary to change. Every time he was close, he could only think of Waffles and her disapproving gaze whenever he lost his temper. The only plus side to Banner’s distraction was the fact that everybody else was generally distracted as well. Doom’s machine of destruction wasn’t as aggressive, or ominous, as they were just a month ago.

“So is somebody going to tell me what’s going on?” Stark asked to anybody who would listen. “And where’s Thor? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

As if on cue, Thor appeared in a flash of lightening, dropping down to Banner’s side.

“My apologies, friends,” he said genuinely repentant. “I would have arrived sooner, but Kanin was not feeling well.”

The other Avengers rolled their eyes, well aware of how distracted everybody was. The world at large was experiencing less conflict; people were generally piddling around with their newfound fluffy pets and not a whole lot was getting done. Fury was less severe and watched over their shoulders only once a while now, Thor was focused on his bunny, and sometimes Jane, and Banner knew he was spending less time as the Hulk. It was difficult to embrace his rage when he was filled with warm fluffy feelings. That in and of itself was frustrating to the point of anger, but once again, warm fluffy feelings won out in the end. It was a vicious cycle. So he was often left standing on the sidelines, hoping for the fight to end soon because Waffles needed her one hundred brush strokes before dinner, dammit.

And end soon it did. Thor seemed a bit more annoyed with the situation than was warranted, but Banner wasn’t about to argue against Thor’s method of hitting the machine as hard as he could with Mjolnir. It broke surprisingly easy, and even more surprising, Doom didn’t seem to upset with it. If anything, he looked relieved. It was probably the most anticlimactic battle with Doom he had ever fought.

“Doom will return with vengeance,” he bellowed, sounding more like it was a well practiced line rather than any type of promise.

Nobody made a move to capture Doom as he escaped. They just stood and stared at his retreating figure when a strong breeze caused a scrap of paper to fly free from the confines of Doom’s cape. Hawkeye grabbed it as it floated above their heads. He started to laugh, handing the picture to Stark who also started laughing.

Banner had to admit, he was curious now. He and the others looked over Stark’s shoulder. It was a photo of Doom with a tiny Shi Tzu in a little green cape. It was really adorable.


	3. Agent Coulson

Today was a bad day. It was the kind of day that began with one’s alarm gong off an hour late, and proceeded by rain with no umbrella, a broken car, and an overly cramped subway. Topping the morning off was being splashed by a passing car, ruining his suit and rapidly cooling coffee. By the time Coulson reached SHIELD headquarters, he was prepared to taser anybody who didn’t get out of his way. So, the last thing he wanted was to be bombarded by frantic junior agents scrambling around the floors shouting for directions and red alerts.

“Good of you to join us this morning…whoa, what happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Coulson sighed, pushing past Hawkeye who looked far too amused given the general panic levels. “What’s going on here, Clint?”

He shrugged as he fell in step with Coulson.

“Loki is my guess,” he answered.

Coulson paused mid-step and looked up. Sure as this day sucked, every bit of furniture was now on every surface except for the ground. He shook his head and continued towards his office. Everybody panicked far too easily these days. Speaking of panicked, a young man, probably a new recruit, ran up to him and saluted. Coulson couldn’t figure out why he was being saluted, or when they even adopted a salute in the first place. Clint coughed, or laughed, into his hand.

“Sir! All the furniture has been…altered!” he shouted.

“’Altered?’ It’s stuck to the ceiling. I think we’re past altered,” Coulson corrected, his patience running thin.

“Er…yes, sir…What should we do?”

“Yeah, Coulson, what should we do?” Clint asked far too seriously to be anything but serious.

Slapping Clint upside the head, Coulson didn’t take time to revel in the look of surprise on his face. Instead, he focused in on the agent.

“Will the furniture come off?” Coulson asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, everything just…stays where it is.”

“Then we do nothing,” he explained. “Just tell everybody to calm down and go about their regular duties.”

That should have been that, but of course, it never worked that way. When he should have been scurrying off and doing as he was told, the new agent remained where he was, in Coulson’s way.

“But what about the perpetrator? It’s obvious this is the work of Loki,” the agent pressed. “Shouldn’t we do something about our security?”

Whether he did it out of the goodness of his heart, or some pathological need to harass new recruits, Clint grabbed the young man by the shoulder, leading him away from coulson while explaining how Loki had no concept of security or personal space, and that if he was vandalizing their headquarters, he wasn’t off enslaving their planet.  
Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Coulson continued trudging towards his office, stopping by Director Fury’s office as was customary.

“The director is expecting you,” the secretary said as he approached the double doors.  
Nodding his head politely, Coulson knocked on the door, letting himself in before any verbal confirmation. Regardless of the flurry of activity elsewhere, Fury’s office was its usual quiet calm, the director sitting behind his desk, his little tabby glaring down its obscenely cute pink nose.

“Rough morning?” Fury asked, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Gravity defying furniture is the least ‘rough’ part of my morning,” Coulson answered truthfully.

Fury made some noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, motioning for Natasha to step forward. For all his preparedness for any situation, Coulson could still be surprised when the Black Widow manifested, unassuming from some dark shadow. She held out a thick folder brimming with paperwork. Too much of a professional to sigh aloud, Coulson reached upwards to take the folder from her, who smiled sympathetically for a brief moment before rejoining Fury at his desk.

“These are current reports from our intel on Doom’s activity in the past few months,” Fury explained. “We suspect he may be preparing another weapon. Look into it and see if we need to send anybody over.”  
The conversation was over, and when one was ignored, one was dismissed. Coulson tucked the folder under his arm, idly wondering how both Fury and Natasha could look even more dignified on the veiling than on the floor. He waved at the secretary sitting on the wall, typing away at her computer.

Finally giving into the urge to sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose, Coulson paused a moment to collect himself. Even though he had given order to ignore the current situation in headquarters, the newer agents were still scrambling around while the more seasoned agents continued about their regular business, whether it be on one of the walls or the ceiling. Everybody wanted to get their work done before Loki decided gravity needed to work again, and all their hard work and desks were unceremoniously broken on the floor.

Coulson sincerely hoped his desk was on the wall. He didn’t feel like climbing up to the ceiling until the magic gravity kicked in, and left him there. Maybe when all this was done, he could get a new desk and finally have it face the window.

When he reached his office door, he paused, hand hovering over the handle. Taking a deep breath and telling himself his day could not get any worse, he twisted the knob. The door swung open, revealing nothing, or at least, nothing out of the ordinary. Coulson stared dumbly at his office, eyes roving over every nook and cranny, searching for the prank that had to be waiting for him. But, the longer he stared, the ore he was aware that there was no magical trap waiting for him.  
Glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching, Coulson walked into his office, shutting the door lightly behind. It was silent, more silent than was possible with all the excitement everywhere else. Coulson felt some of the tension bleed out of his shoulder as he set the seemingly lighter feeling folder on his desk.

Sitting down, he realized there was a delicious smell wafting from one of his desk drawers. With a bit more gusto than he would ever admit to, Coulson opened the drawer to find a cup of steaming hot coffee from his favorite shop, accompanied by a plate with a powdered and chocolate frosted doughnut. Coulson pulled the objects out reverently, fnally noticing the plain white envelope underneath.

His name was written on the front, the neat, almost superfluous script making it obvious who it was from. Taking a sip and savoring the flavor of his coffee, Coulson picked the envelop up, examining it. Setting the coffee down, he opened the envelope and pulled out a single photograph. The subject was of Doom lunging for the camera, diabolical looking robots standing clearly in the background. Coulson hummed happily, leaning back in his chair, admiring the perfect view out his window.


	4. Hawkeye

Sometimes, being a superhero sucked. Other times, it was really fun. Shooting things with reckless abandon was high on the list of fun times. Clint Barton was having one of those fun times, because he got to shoot things. People may say there was something deeper meaning behind his choice in weaponry, and general glee at being allowed to shoot things with arrows, but Hawkeye the Avenger would tell the people to stick their deeper meanings up their asses. Shooting shit with arrows is fun.

Currently, Clint was shooting ducks, but they weren’t normal ducks. They were mechanical ducks. Realistic looking as they were, when Clint shot one, the duck exploded into bits of metal and glitter. He was confused by the glitter part, but Clint was a professional. Evil ducks were attacking the innocent citizens of the city with glitter. Glitter was difficult to clean up. Difficult clean ups were annoying. Clint didn’t like annoying things. Ergo, it was his solemn duty to destroy the ducks. Damn glitter.

The city was literally sparkling under the afternoon sun. Children ran around, stomping in piles of glitter. There were a lot of ducks. Clint was having difficulty being everywhere at once; otherwise, the city totally would be glitter free. As it was though, he could only shoot whatever he saw and move on. Sure, a couple of pigeons here and there suffered from the rush, but it was their fault for flying into an arrow. Stupid pigeons.

Despite his speedy, and accurate, movement across the city, however, some ducks escaped his arrows. Sometimes, though more like twice or some low number like that, Clint’s arrow went wide, and the duck found its target. But really, that glitter made the shelter much prettier.

So it wasn’t the occasional miss that irked Clint. He was only human after all, and the other Avengers were off prancing around a foreign country destroying tyrannical shit. It was just Hawkeye, and honestly, he knew he was doing an awesome job taking care of business. That was why Hawkeye wanted to shoot Banner’s dumb, albeit cute, dog. The furry bastard, or bitch, as would be more accurate, would laugh at him whenever he missed. Hawkeye couldn’t tolerate a dog, let alone one named Waffles, mock him. However, whenever Clint tried to shoot the dog when it popped up, Waffles disappeared, barking chuckle echoing in the wind. Hulk’s fury be damned, he was going to kill that dog. Nobody mocked Hawkeye.

“Damn ass duck!” Clint shouted as an arrow barely missed a duck.

He kept his bow poised, slowly scanning the surrounding area. His muscles tensed, sweat beading across his brow, as the silence threatened to suffocate him. A duck had just whizzed by and showered the community center with glitter. Any minute now, the dog was going to appear from behind a bench, or a tree.

“Hawkeye.”

The sudden sound most emphatically didn’t startle Clint and make him release an arrow. He was just so freaking prepared, he whipped around and let an arrow fly by pure instinct.

“Good afternoon to you too.”

Loki stood but twenty feet from Clint, nonchalant and infinitely amused, holding the tip of an arrow a fraction away from his eye. He drew the arrow from his face and lightly rubbed his finger over the metal tip. Clint really wasn’t glad that it was Loki, since Loki was a bad guy, a marvelously quick reflexed bad guy, and he wasn’t happy about bad guys on principle.

“The hell you doing here?” Clint demanded. “These ducks your doing?”

With an elegant shrug of the shoulder, Loki walked forward and handed the arrow back to Clint.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” he replied. “Oh, and do look over you shoulder.”

Clint didn’t want to look over his shoulder. Something he didn’t like was going to be over his shoulder. But let it never be said, Clint was afraid. He was Hawkeye and he looked death in the eye everyday and laughed. Only, it wasn’t him laughing. It was Waffles.

“Dammit, Loki!”

Loki chuckled.

“Pay attention, Hawkeye, or you are going to miss another.”

There was a robotic quack from somewhere in the sky. Clint was not going to let the dog psyche him out. He notched the arrow Loki had given him and let it loose. In the far distance, there was an explosion of sparkles. It was pretty.

“Excellent marksmanship,” Loki drawled, clapping slowly.

Clint wasn’t sure if Loki was being serious or sarcastic, or even both, but he didn’t have the luxury of standing around, so he just assumed it was close enough to praise as he would ever get from the god of mischief, a.k.a. god of really annoying little brothers. But Loki was a bit of a marksman as well, and Clint had to respect that. Not only could he throw a blade with unnatural accuracy, he could also throw people out of windows with the same accuracy. Clint could lay claim to being the only Avenger that hasn’t been thrown through a window by Loki. Yeah, that’s called respect.

“So why the ducks?” Clint asked. “Doesn’t really seem your style.”

Loki hummed thoughtfully, eyes scanning the skyline.

“Astute observation,” he said wryly, a small blade materializing in his hand. “Ducks would not be my first choice. Snakes, or wolves, would be a far better choice. Ooh, or how about ferrets.”

With a fluid flick of the wrist, Loki’s blade lodged itself in the side of a duck. It didn’t explode on impact like should of. Instead, it began circling overhead, muck like a hawk, and wasn’t that an interesting thing to watch. However, Clint would not be distracted. Besides, Loki was always doing weird shit, and it was always best not to ask. Tony was the only one who questioned him. Tony was an idiot who had the highest count for being thrown out of windows.

“Okay, so ferret’s would be awesome,” Clint admitted. “I always wanted a ferret, but I couldn’t have one at the circus ‘cause it would have been eaten by the lion, or set on fire, or disappear during a magic show. And now that you know about this, don’t ever think about doing anything related to this.”

“I would never,” Loki swore, hand open in surrender. Unfortunately, the tiny smirk ruined the image perfectly.

Staring intently at Loki, Clint absently notched another arrow, not believing it for a minute.

“You’re not fooling me,” he said unnecessarily. Clint shot another duck. “So, back to my point. If ducks aren’t your thing, why the ducks?”

“The ducks,” Loki explained, “Belong to Doom.”

“Sooo…” Clint drawled, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Doom ducks? Glitter Doom Ducks? This is his work?”

Loki didn’t seem to find it funny. If anything, he looked pissy and smug. Clint never looked too closely at how Loki and Doom picked on each other.

“Hmph. He intended for the ducks to destroy critical points in the city, and declare war,” Loki said.

Clint frowned.

“He’s going to declare war through glitter? And why ducks?”

“They would be more difficult to detect. The glitter was my doing,” Loki scoffed. “That fool would dare to insult me…”

The last part was a quiet mumble, more reminiscent of Loki’s earlier days when he was still finding his way as a super villain, and a bit more mentally unhinged. While it wasn’t nearly as bad, it was close enough to make him uncomfortable. Clint didn’t like that Loki. He didn’t like this Loki either, no matter what Coulson said otherwise, but he was less homicidal and much happier. And bad guy or not, Loki should be allowed to be happy. Clint wasn’t heartless after all.

“So, how did he insult you?” Clint asked, honestly curious. He was also a good listener. Plenty of women said so.

“He said I was tacky!” Loki practically shouted. “As if he is one to speak of aesthetics. Have you seen the interior of his castle/ do not speak to me of those green drapes. If anything is tacky, it is the drapes. And what of his fashion? He might as well be wearing the drapes! And who actually speaks in the third person and wishes to be taken seriously?”

Clint was aware he was openly gaping at Loki. He knew that was kind of rude and all kinds of unprofessional, but he felt he was a little justified in his reaction. There were exploding glitter ducks because Loki was insulted. There was something more to it beyond a thoughtless comment, but Clint could never know since there was no possible way to understand Loki’s mind. All he knew was that Doom was a jerk.

“Anyways, I altered his weapons to shower the city with glitter. Now who is going to be called tacky?” Loki continued as if he had not just had a minor psychotic outburst. “After this day, let the world know forever Victor von Doom is tacky.”

“How’s the world supposed to credit this to Doom?” Clinst asked. He was relieved Loki was back to his usual calm, smug, arrogant self.

“Because, my dear Hawkeye,” Loki purred. “Take a closer look at a duck.”

Clint wasn’t sure he wanted to, but he was curious, so he waited for another duck to fly by. When he finally spotted one, he fired at it, and in the explosion of glitter that followed, bit of metal scrap fell to the ground as well. He hand’ noticed it before, but the scraps were more like a single scrap with something scrawled on it in green ink.

“Made in Latveria. Doom Corporation...it’s copyrighted,” Clint mused. “What the ever loving shit?”

“Every duck launched at the city has this on them,” Loki explained gleefully. “Let that be a lesson.”

Arching an eyebrow, Clint dropped the scrap metal and shouldered his bow.

“How many ducks are left?” he asked, not really caring all that much.

Loki tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“I believe the only remaining ducks are aimed at the Baxter Building,” Loki said. “Are you going to warn them?”

“Why? They’re superheroes and super powered,” Clint shrugged. “Ain’t my problem.”

That made Loki smirk. Clint was really glad he decided not to warn the Fantastic Four. He had a feeling he was going to get some funny news about them in them in the near future.

“Excellent,” Loki chirped. “Now, I must leave. I suggest watching the evening news.”

He clapped his hands once, the sound echoing too loudly to be anything but magic. And sure enough, the one duck that still had Loki’s blade embedded in it suddenly exploded. Before Clint could ask what that was all about, Loki disappeared from the city. Sighing at what he had to put up with, Clint took a moment to watch the glitter descend. He was man enough to admit it was kind of pretty.

After making sure everything was how it should be after a glitter assault, Clint had every intention of hiding in his apartment until Coulson dragged him away for a debriefing. However, he faltered in his steps when he noticed the glitter wasn’t dispersing in the wind. Instead, it was coalescing into a cloud and floating towards Clint. Any other time, Clint would have moved and found a way to turn the glitter cloud into a pin cushion. But this wasn’t any other time, because a glitter cloud was approaching him.

It went against Clint’s better judgment, but he reached forward and tried to poke the glitter cloud. His curiosity piqued when the cloud seemed to solidify into a compact mass. Self-preservation be damned, he just poke a glitter cloud.

And then, in what could only be described as a magic poof, the glitter morphed and dropped at Clint’s feet.

“Hot damn,” he whispered.

Staring up at him with black, beady eyes was a ferret. Clint stared at it, so very tempted to pick it up, but manfully resisting. As appreciative of the intention as he was, Clint couldn’t take it home. He didn’t know how to take care of a ferret, and there were enough fury critters residing with the Avengers. But then, the littler ferret squeaked and began bouncing around. It danced like an idiot, but Clint found himself bending forward to pick it up; grudgingly, of course. The ferret scurried into his outstretched hands, warbling scream of approval aimed at Clint.

“Noisy little bastard,” Clint mumbled idly as he stroked the ferret’s head.

Clearly, the responsible thing to do would involve running tests on the ferret, and then finding a good home for it. Clint had every intention of being responsible. He kept telling himself that all the way back to SHIELD Headquarters, and even told Coulson this. While he was currently listing all the reasons why keeping a magic ferret was a bad idea, Coulson nodding understandingly and smiling the whole time, the magic ferret got out of the office. Clint did not panic. He merely responded in a manner befitting an agent of SHIELD. Running up and down the halls shouting for his glitter ferret was perfectly normal.

Internally, he panicked about finding the ferret. What did that say about Hawkeye if he couldn’t even keep track of a single ferret? And what would he tell Loki when he saw him again? Also, why was he so concerned about disappointing Loki?

These questions plagued his mind, distracting him from the other Avengers who had just arrived. He brushed past Banner and his stupid laughing dog, barely acknowledged Thor’s booming greeting, and ignored Captain America’s inquiries. It was going to be impossible to find the ferret. Clint was disappointed, most definitely not despairing.

“What the hell?!”

Tony’s shout plus one warbling scream spurred Clint into action. Iron man better not have hurt his ferret, or iron man was going to be introduced to Clint’s super special armor piercing arrows.

“Glitter ferret!” Clint shouted.

Scrambling out of a room, the ferret dodged an Italian leather show flying at its head. It jumped up Clint’s leg, climbing into his waiting embrace, just as tony stomped out of the same room, rubbing his head.

“That rodent is a menace,’ he growled. “It snuck up on me, screamed in my face, made me hit my head, then bit me, and left the weirdest, smelliest piece of shit in my shoe!”

Clint noted the flustered breathing and the blood freely flowing from several puncture wounds on Tony’s hand. It apparently had something against Tony. Clint snuggled the ferret.

“You cannot keep that thing. It goes, now!” Tony shouted.

“That would be unwise, Mister Stark,” Coulson interrupted, approaching with a folder. “Seeing as the ferret is a direct result of Loki’s magic, it’s of the utmost importance we keep it close to make sure nothing happens. Mister Stark, you can come with me for your debriefing. Agent Barton, here are the necessary registration papers.”

Tony sputtered more indignities as Coulson herded him towards a meeting room. Clint looked at the folder of papers. He had told Coulson to get him disposal papers. The man was good.

“So, I think I’ll name you, Phil,” Clint told the ferret. “Let’s get something to eat, and then watch the news, Phil.”

And if by the next morning, the entire SHIELD Headquarters knew of Phil, Tony’s hand was still throbbing, doom was being mocked all around the world, and the Baxter Building was permanently glittery until they found a way to remove magic glue, then Clint knew all was well in the world. He was Hawkeye, and he had a magic glitter ferret named Phil. Yeah, he was totally awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why ferrets suddenly showed up. Anyways, this was a longer chapter, and as such, I may have missed grammar stuff. I found a lot of them before posting, so there's a chance there are still more. Just a heads up on that. And feel free to let me know what you think about anything else.


	5. Thor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Work got the best of me. Enjoy.

When Thor was a child, he hated sparring with his little brother. Loki had height, but was on the scrawny side, and Thor was always afraid he would irreparably damage him. But as they got older, Thor began to like sparring with his little brother. Loki was still slighter in frame, but his magic and mind made up for a lack in girth. It forced Thor to think during a fight, and he was always pressed to gain the advantage. And now that he was older, and he hoped, wiser. Thor came to enjoy the time spent with Loki. As such, he grabbed Loki and threw him through a tree. 

The trunk splintered from the impact. Thor had to duck to avoid the branch propelled towards his head. He laughed and waited for Loki to make his move. He heard rustling behind him, but he wouldn’t be fooled. A blur at the corner of his eye set off warning bells. With less force than he normally would use, he wasn’t aiming to crush and maim after all, Thor chucked the hammer. It was too little too late for Thor to react when Mjolnir passed through the blur. Even as he was calling Mjolnir back to his hand, he could feel a crackle of magic from behind him. Before he could assume a defensive position, Thor felt himself sailing through the air. The forest was quite beautiful to look at form this perspective. Pity it was moving by so fast. 

Thor soon met the side of a stone wall with his face, Mjolnir thwacking into his back. He peeled himself from the side of the wall, poking Mjolnir off the ground. The wall had a decent sized crater, much of the surrounding stone cracking and crumbling.

“How was your trip, Thor?” 

Loki perched on a nearby block of dislodged stone, usual smirk firmly in place. 

“I have had a revelation, Brother,” Thor said, dusting dirt from Mjolnir. 

“Is that so?” Loki mused. “Pray, what sort of revelation could the thunder god have?”

Thor smiled and threw Mjolnir. He watched in satisfaction as Loki’s eyes widened as he barely had time to roll away from the now demolished stone, courtesy of one magic hammer. Said hammer flew back to Thor’s outstretched hand.

“I enjoy fighting you, Loki,” he declared. 

“Thor, what is common knowledge and absolute truth does not constitute a revelation,” Loki explained patiently. His tone reminded Thor of his tutor who was certain eh would never be renowned as a scholar. “And your toss was a bit off. Perhaps you should focus on our fight?”

He was more than happy to oblige. Throwing himself head first into the fight, Thor laughed and swung Mjolnir with reckless abandon. Since coming to stay on Midgard, there were too few opportunities for Thor to let go and not worry about breaking the surprisingly fragile buildings or the mortals around him. Though there were some Avenger’s capable of holding their own in a fight against him, Thor was still paranoid about striking too hard. Mortal bodies were much more fragile than their buildings after all. 

But as he fought with Loki, Thor didn’t concern himself with such details. His brother was by no means fragile, and having been raised an Aesir, and as Thor’s brother, Loki knew how to give as good as he got. They knew each other well, and they didn’t need to fear what they could do to each other. It also helped that Loki always knew the best places to have a good brawl. No mortals were nearby, and there were no buildings to get in the way. At least, none of that mattered. 

“You will cease destroying Doom’s castle with your tomfoolery!”

The Castle von Doom was slowly falling to pieces as Thor and Loki continued their fight. Doom’s castle may have been built to last, but with as much magic and as many hammers were flying about, the castle stood no chance. Perhaps on another occasion Thor would have felt bad about the property destruction. However, after hearing from Hawkeye about Doom upsetting Loki, Thor couldn’t bring himself to care. 

While he supported his brother going out and making new friends, he sometimes wished Loki would pick somebody a little less like Doom. Granted, eh understood how Loki was drawn to Doom’s intelligence and acceptance of sorcery, but there were times when Thor thought Doom was a bad influence. If Thor had his way, Loki would be making friends with people less likely to blow something up all in the name of world domination. 

“I am merely gathering intelligence about Thor,” Loki blithely explained as he dodged a swipe aimed at his head. “And this location is perfect since there will not be any unnecessary interference.”

Doom continued to sputter indignities, punctuated by grumblings about insurance policies. Thor felt a childish, and full justified, feeling of glee at how Doom would be sulking until they finished and left the country. Loki was still upset at Doom, and Thor was okay with that since it meant Loki’s attention was on their battle, and not Doom. Everybody was better than Doom. Even the angry Master of Magnetism with his crusade for mutant supremacy was amore preferable friend than Doom. Then again, after Loki manipulated Magneto into making up with Professor X by kidnapping said professor (with tea, waffles, and a mutual love for knowledge) and subsequently rescuing him from Loki’s evil grasp, Magneto wasn’t really eager to spend time with Loki. Thor heard him once call Loki a “magic damned yenta” to which Loki had practically cackled with delight. 

“You are not paying attention, Brother.”

Thor heard, more than saw Loki move next to him, and before he could find a suitable response, he felt a solid kick to his chest, flinging him to the ground. He landed with a surprised gasp with barely any time to bring his hands up and block the mouth full of fangs from latching onto his throat. Loki, now a great black wolf, pinned Thor to the ground, front paws shifting and digging into Thor’s arms, preventing him from raising Mjolnir. 

“Do you yield?” Loki asked his voice a deep, rumbling growl. 

Sighing, after determining there was no helping it, Thor tapped the ground. Loki’s ears perked forward, tongue lolling out as he grinned an extremely toothy grin. He moved off of Thor, sitting next to him, tail thumping the ground in a very un-wolf like way. 

“Where was your mind, Thor?” he finally asked, now returned to his normal form. “I should not have bested you so easily…And Doom’s castle still stands largely intact.”

It was true, the castle was suffering from simple, superficial damages. Thor was certain doom could easily fix, or replace, the entire south rampart, and the watch tower was listing to the side rather than being scattered into little pieces. It was rare for Doom’s castles to survive a godly brawl, and seeing as little damage as he did, Thor felt like h wasn’t putting in his full effort.

“I was thinking about those you keep company with,” Thor answered, realizing a second too late he probably should have lied.

Sometimes Loki could get sensitive about these things. His brother’s moods were mercurial at best, even more so since falling from the Bifrost. Thor was ashamed at how little he truly knew about Loki, and how much tragedy had to happen for him to see. Sometimes Thor felt like he was a horrible brother. 

“They are not the most…decent lot, I suppose,” Loki said, no trace of anger or bitterness straining his voice. “But they are infinitely more interesting than your acquaintances. Though I do not mind that Tony Stark so much.”

Thor sighed. By saying, “interesting,” he could hear that Loki meant trouble-making, and where there was trouble making, there was Loki. This was why he was certain Loki and Tony got along so well. Stark was always getting into trouble, so therefore, Loki found him interesting. The problem with this plan became evident when too much trouble followed the pair. Unnecessary destruction, even by Thor’s standards, and sexual escapades, which Thor really didn’t want to think about, happened with alarming frequency. Director Fury ordered any interaction between Tony and Loki was to be chaperoned by an Avenger. Nobody wanted the job. 

“Now, while I know the Mighty Thor does not particularly approve of the company I keep, surely it is not enough to distract him from his favorite past time,” Loki continued to muse. 

They were now sitting peacefully, side by side, Loki moving only to pick up a lizard. 

“I just want you to be happy, and not all of your…’friends,’ seem to do that,” Thor admitted, hating how stupidly sentimental he sounded. 

“Your concern fills me with this repulsive feeling I cannot name at the moment,” Loki commented, stroking the lizard’s back. 

“Happiness?” Thor asked hopefully.

That was probably not the brightest response since Loki was looking at him with an unimpressed, though somewhat amused expression. 

“You are an idiot, dear Brother,” Loki said as eh set the lizard back on the ground. For some reason, it looked bigger. “If my happiness is your concern, be rest assured I shall increase my efforts to thwart the Avengers. Your frustration sustains me.”

Somehwere at the back of his mind, Thor felt a bit guilty about encouraging Loki’s “villainous” ways, but the much larger, and controlling part was pleased he could see his brother more often. There were too few times he actually interacted with Loki when he was attacking the Avengers; the exception being when they were sparring as they were now, and briefly when Loki arrived for Jane’s weekly kidnapping. That last one made Thor happy. His brother was making an effort to get to know the woman he loved. And for her part, Jane was always eager to be kidnapped, always returning with a new direction or new theory for her work. 

Unlike Thor, who was completely willing to admit it, Loki was far more gifted at explaining science to the mortals in ways they could comprehend it. Thor tried to explain more complex material once with little success. According to stark, answering the question about inter-dimensional travel with, “Because it is connected by the branches of Yggdrisil,” isn’t really an answer. Thor still didn’t understand why the concept of a giant tree connecting all life was so ridiculous to the mortals. Of course, Loki’s explained that mortals called the branches something different, but that just served to confuse Thor further. If it was all the same, why was it strange to call it a branch? Calling it a “wormhole” was much more ridiculous sounding in Thor’s opinion. At least he had seen a tree of life before. He had never seen a giant worm burrowing its way through space-time. Mortals had the strangest ideas sometimes. 

“Asgard to Thor,” Loki said with a firm whack to Thor’s head. “What in the nine realms could you possibly be thinking about so hard? You know, most people, even the mortals, are capable of thinking without completely shutting down.”

Thor rubbed the tender spot on his head refully. 

“My apologies. I seem to have let my thoughts get the best of me.”

Loki snorted in a very non-villainous way; more like he did when they had been children and Thor had said something particularly dumb. 

“Is thinking truly so difficult you cannot even keep up with your own mind?” Loki asked, amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

Even though it was at his own expense, Thor was pleased to see his brother so at ease. As much he didn’t want to be, Thor had been worried about Loki. After the events leading to the destruction and subsequent rebuilding of the Bifrost, Thor now understood, to some extent anyways, how harmful careless words or actions could be with Loki. Blasé as Loki could be, it was easy for Thor to forget that his brother heard not just words, but everything hidden between and behind them as well. H was also aware of how much Loki internalized his feelings, which led to his unpredictable outbursts and break downs.

At least, that’s what Professor Xavier thought, and Thor thought that sounded about right. Maybe he should try to convince Loki to go to therapy. Xavier had agreed to do it so long as Loki ceased interfering in his personal life. It wasn’t funny, though Loki thought otherwise, and he could tolerate only so many phone calls from Erik ranting about gods of mischief and how all his capes were now green. Thor thought Xavier couldn’t complain. After all, he had to listen to his fair share of rants from the entire Brotherhood, the X-Men, the Avengers, and anybody else fortunate, or unfortunate as most would say, to gain Loki’s interest. That was a lot of people. 

“I am attempting to be thoughtful and introspective,” Thor finally said. 

“That is generally accomplished by oneself, or by sharing one’s introspections,” Loki explained, leaving an open invitation to share, though he looked more resigned than inviting. 

Much as he wanted to, it would probably be unwise for Thor to share his deeper thoughts. Well, unwise to share his thoughts about Loki. He had absolutely no problem voicing his simpler thoughts. 

“Why is a giant lizard laying siege to Doom’s castle?” 

Stranger things had happened, but still, Thor was intrigued by the green and blue lizard breaking the castle into stony bits. He couldn’t hear what Doom was saying, but he seemed upset. 

“Somebody had to level his castle since you and I appear to be not fighting,” he drawled. “Just leave my little Nidhogg to do its business.”

Thor smiled despite himself. He remembered when he and Loki first heard about the fearsome Nidhogg and decided it would make a great pet. Heimdall had easily caught them before they could sneak off to find it, and ever since then, they still wanted one for a pet.

“How long will Nidhogg remain?” Thor asked. 

“Until I have decided Doom has been punished enough for his insolence,” replied Loki. 

That was good. Now Thor didn’t have to worry about a giant lizard terrorizing the rest of the country. It left more time for more interesting pursuits. 

“Well then,” Thor said, standing up and offering a hand to Loki. “I have had enough of thoughts. Let us again do battle.”

“A most excellently suggestion, Brother.”

Loki gave Thor a genuine smile as he accepted Thor’s hand. And he continued to smile as he jerked Thor forward and slammed his knee into his face.


	6. Iron Man

When Tony woke up, he felt well rested and only a little hung over. He had gone to the bar with the other Avengers as a reward for a job well done stopping MODOK. With no small contribution on Tony’s part, they had successfully prevented the creepy, disproportioned evil doer from doing something evil. Tony couldn’t quite remember what MODOK had been doing. The briefing had been boring, and after having to sit through a days worth of boring meetings, he had felt perfectly justified dozing off. The Iron Man suit had autopilot, and it wasn’t like they had wanted Tony’s opinion. Well, they may have wanted his opinion on something, but he had been dozing, and had probably given them a half-assed answer at best. The point was, they had stopped MODOK and went out for drinks later. Even Coulson had joined them, though Tony suspected he had been there to babysit the Avengers as they slowly, or not slowly, got plastered on hard liquor and rainbow drinks. Of course, Captain America tried, as always, to get drunk, but it didn’t work. Tony actually felt bad for him. He may or may not be working on a way to bypass the fast metabolism and give the good Captain the opportunity to get drunk like the rest of them. Tony was a philanthropist after all. 

And it was also due to his good and generous heart that he had met a charming young activist, for something or another, at the bar. She had been endearingly friendly, quick-witted, and had a body that Tony would have to be blind to miss. He had impressed her with his staggering intellect, vast wealth, and not so inconsiderable good looks, and by the early hours of the morning, Tony had whisked her away in one of his cars, he couldn’t be bothered to remember which one, and introduced her to his bedroom. She had bee quite the minx in bed, and Tony felt the twinges of last night’s activities as he stretched and rolled over. He yawned as he tried to figure out if the woman was going to be a problem, or if she would see it like he did; a really fun, drunken night of debauchery, not to be repeated again. 

“Good morning, Stark.”

Tony sighed at the smug tone. 

“Morning, Loki,” he greeted, all to aware that he wasn’t as surprised as he should be. 

The sounds of the morning slowly filtered into his room, making Tony reluctant to get up, even though he was sharing his very personal space with the Norse god of mischief. Besides, Loki seemed fairly content to laze about as well. It would have been rude for Tony to kick him out of bed this early. 

“So how many times does this make now?” Tony asked as he fluffed his pillow. 

“I have lost count,” Loki replied. “But it still remains enjoyable.”

“Not arguing about that,” he said. 

Despite what Loki said, Tony knew they both kept a mental tally. The number was absurdly high. Tony didn’t know when Loki decided trolling his love life was a new hobby, only that ever since Loki gave up trying to destroy and subjugate the world, Tony had been getting lucky with alarming frequency. Not that he was complaining. Frustrating as it could be, Tony did find it sort of fun to try and figure out if the woman he took home with him would be Loki. He liked challenges, and Loki made it very challenging. It was why he continued to flirt and pick up any interested woman with slightly suspicious motives. Actually, in some ways, Tony like that most women he picked up would be Loki. It made less work for Pepper since Loki wasn’t interested in his money or name. 

And when he thought about Pepper, he was a little sad it didn’t work out, what with their business relationship interfering as well. Now that Tony was focused on that thought, he realized that was around the first time he was tricked by Loki. Tony slapped his head, regretting the action instantly since he apparently had more of a hangover than he thought. 

“If you wish to be struck, I would be more than pleased to do it to you,” Loki mumbled into his pillow. 

“We’ll have to explore that kink next time,” Tony said, genuinely curious now. “But it’s about time I got up.”

He heard a snort of amusement from Loki, who cracked open an eye and silently challenged Tony to follow through. Just to prove that he wasn’t so predictable, Tony was determined to get out of bed. Unfortunately, his bed happened to be very comfortable, and Loki must have cast some spell to make Tony too lazy to move, otherwise, he would have totally been up and moving already.

“Amazing effort you put in there, Stark,” Loki observed.

“Shut up,” Tony shot back. 

Loki chuckeld and sat up. Tony watched lazily as Loki looked around the room, probably looking for his clothing. Leaning over the bed, Loki dragged what used to be a shirt off the floor. 

“A bit zealous, hm?” Loki mused as he held up the torn and button-less blouse. 

“Red isn’t your color,” Tony replied. “I did you a favor destroying it. It looked better on the floor.”

It was too early in the morning for Tony to guess what the arched eyebrow meant. With Loki, it could range from amusement to I’m-going-to-rend-your-entrails-upon-the-earth. Tony hoped it wasn’t the latter. His armor was too far away. But really, Tony didn’t care at the moment, and since Loki made no move to rend Tony’s entrails any place other than where they liked to stay, he counted it was a success.

“Your general opinion of clothing always involves the floor,” Loki said casually.

Tony shrugged. He wouldn’t deny it. Loki rolled his eyes at him as eh stood up. Tony was always fascinated whenever Loki used his magic. He wanted to understand the underlying logic behind it. There ahd to be some sort of science at work, and he was determined to figure it out one day; being able to wave clothing into existence sounded really convenient. There was so much more he could do in a day if he didn’t have to spend so much time repeatedly getting dressed.

“You need no more excused to be even more of a philanderer than you already are,” Loki dryly observed. 

Apparently, Tony had voiced that thought aloud. 

“Am I really a philanderer if I’m doing it with the same person?” he challenged. 

It was an old argument he had with just about every Avenger and SHIELD executive. They only one he never brought it up with was Thor. Tony didn’t think he could handle seeing the kicked puppy look Thor always wore whenever he was told that Loki tricking Tony into pseudo-monogamy didn’t mean they were in a relationship, let alone marriage.

“You do not think you are bedding the same person,” Loki countered. 

“So you say it’s my state of mind,” Tony concluded. 

“I have no desire to comment on your state of mind,” Loki smirked as eh walked by. “And do mind your head this morning.”

Sometimes, though a lot of time with Loki, Tony had no idea what he was supposed to do about cryptic advice, threats, etc. before noon. He simply waved Loki out of the room, readjusting his position so he was reclining on his back. 

He heard Loki greet whoever was banging around in the kitchen, and what did that say about the Avengers if nobody was surprised to see Loki in the morning at their house. Thor’s loud greeting echoed down the hall while a quieter voice, Clint by the sounds of it, invited Loki to join them for breakfast, which was beginning to sound really good about now. 

And speaking of sound, Tony realized he heard something crawling next to his head. Frowning, he slowly turned his head to find a pair of black, beady eyes glinting in the morning light. Before his sluggish mind could process what this meant, an ear piercing, warbling scream jerked Tony into wakefulness. In his surprise, he slammed his head into the headboard. Holding the tender spot with one hand, he used the other to snatch the ferret by the scruff of its neck.

“Ha! You little bite-y bastard,” Tony preened, sticking his face up close. “Let’s see you get me now.”

Phil the ferret regarded him with devious eyes. 

“Now, I’m going to…THE HELL?!” Tony shouted as a giant, invisible cloud of pungent musk hit his face.

The smell made him gag, dropping Phil as he tried to get the horrible smell out of his nose, and saints help him, his mouth. Tony really hated Phil. Not only was it determined to make his life hell and named after the most annoying SHIELD agent ever, the little weasel was a perfect angel with everybody else. He was beginning to think Loki had been considering him instead of Clint when he gave the ferret as a gift. 

“LOKI!”


End file.
